


Take the Lead

by Mochirimi



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: DressedinPinkShipping, F/M, First Kiss, Midnight Kiss, New Year's Eve, One Shot, Post-Canon, bederia, new year's eve kiss, they're like 18/19 years old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mochirimi/pseuds/Mochirimi
Summary: New Year's Eve in Galar is one big ball. Literally. One where Gloria danced and Bede stood on the sidelines, but with a new year comes new resolutions, and maybe it's time Bede got on the dancefloor...
Relationships: Beet | Bede/Yuuri | Gloria
Comments: 14
Kudos: 107





	Take the Lead

The sound of popping champagne bottles punctuate the roar of conversation and laughter. And Bede sighs, further settling against the wall watching the party with a wary eye. 

“What, not enjoying the ball are we?” The familiar old woman beside him glances up at him bemused.

It takes everything for him not to roll his eyes at her; doing so would surely result in a quick slap to the head and a “mind your elders” quip. Instead, he sighs again running a hand through his pale curls, “I just don’t understand why we have to come to this thing _every_ year.” 

This _thing_ was Galar’s largest New Year’s Eve party full of the country’s most celebrated and their friends and family, televised for all to see. It was considered an honor to be invited and (for Bede) an obligation to go. Whatever the honor it supposedly was, Bede would have preferred to pass, but after the first one Opal literally dragged him by the collar to, it was an unspoken rule that he would at least attend as the retired gym leader’s escort, if not as the proper representative of the Ballonlea gym itself.

Now, three years later, he’d made it his usual habit at this thing to stand beside her as fellow gym leaders and old friends visited, adding a small remark here and there in the conversation to stave off boredom… and to keep him from straying off to watch _her_ dance across the room.

Always the brightest star in the room, in _any_ room— Galar’s champion, it’s hero, it’s absolute darling— Gloria. She was the only one he considered his true rival, having once blamed his disqualification from the gym challenge on her, calling it sabotage. But what once started out as animosity, became respect, admiration, (and with her leading the way) friendship. 

With each calendar year, their relationship grew— at her insistence. Constantly showing up to the gym, to his _home_ in Ballonlea simply to visit, have lunch, and _talk_ he could acknowledge their relationship as… close. But their relationship was built on time spent alone, on a one to one basis. And if he admitted it, he had no place at events like this with her.

So every year, he held back, avoided her while she shined like the brightest star, while she danced around the room with Leon, Raihan, Milo, Marnie, and... Hop. This year is no different. Instead of looking at her, or at anything in her direction, Bede trains his gaze towards the view from their point at the top of the Battle Tower, to watch as the people of Wyndon enjoyed their own festivities down below.  
“You know, if you don’t hurry, you’ll miss your chance again,” his surrogate grandmother states calmly, her aquamarine eyes trained on the figures across the room on the dancefloor.

He follows her train of sight and immediately frowns, quickly regretting the action. There, dressed formally in a black suit and indigo tie, Hop holds Gloria firmly in his arms as they waltz. And she is as bright as he has ever seen her. Dressed in shimmering pink taffeta and tulle, her brown amber eyes shine as Hop pulls her in close and whispers in her ear.

He can’t but bristle. 

She laughs and smiles, nodding in agreement at whatever it is the imbecile says.

No one could deny the two childhood friends cut a perfect figure together. Having grown towards adulthood together, every gossip column loved to speculate towards the _real_ relationship between the two rivals. And watching them now, Bede understood it.

He swallows the lump in his throat, unable to look away as he addresses Opal, the words coming out more slowly than he’d like, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She laughs, cackles even, and shakes her head. “If you keep this up, you’ll miss your chance. It’s almost midnight.” She says, looking up at him knowingly from beneath the brim of her purple hat. “Why don’t you just ask her to dance already?”

“I don’t dance.” He said matter-of-factly.

That was a lie. In fact in the privacy of his own house, Bede danced with beauty and grace, practicing with an invisible partner. 

“Bede, you know better than to lie.” She tsks. “I know what you do when you’re alone.”

He turns to her, ready to protest just how wrong she was, just how _wrong_ her statement even sounded when a clear voice interrupts.

“Bede?”

In front of him, Gloria stands with one hand outstretched, a hesitant smile on her face.

While bantering with the old lady, Bede failed to notice that the previous song had ended, that Gloria had turned her attention to their corner, and was now standing in front of him asking him to dance. 

He freezes. Did he head correctly?

The noise of the surrounding room crescendos to a roar in his ears before breaking into complete silence. She seems to say something again, her mouth moving without him catching the words.

Quickly he shakes himself out of his reverie. “What did you say?” The words come more quickly, more eager than he’d like.

Her smile catches a little, as she licks her lips and tries again, “I said, would you like to dance?”

It’s what he thought she said. Simultaneous panic and exhilaration fill his body, settling into a bright, vibrant shade of pink color on his cheeks.

The only word he musters is, “sure,” taking her steady hand with his own shaking, pulling her in before she could notice. His mind only slightly hyper-aware of the fact his hand is on her waist.  
Immediately he was overcome with the way she smelled, of jasmine white flowers, honey, and something sweeter. 

“You know, it’s traditional to move when you dance” She looks up at him.

Bede looks away from her expectant eyes and back again, nodding. “Right.”

He moves and she follows, and before he realizes it, they’re dancing around the room, in perfect sync. And it’s like magic; no one else in the room matters but him and her.

While they dance, Bede tries to come up with the right words to say, to inquire why she so suddenly (and unexpectedly) asked him to dance. 

“I figured this year I would get a start on my New Year’s resolutions.” She says it so quietly he almost doesn’t catch it. 

He dips her gently before asking, “What does that even mean?”

She takes a step closer ad he takes a step back. She licks her lips again. “I told myself that this year, I’d ask you to dance. Here. With me.” She explains.

His mind races at what it could mean, at what he could possibly say in response. 

But she continues, “But then again, that’s been my New Year’s Resolution for a while now.” Her speech quickens, “You’re always off against the wall with Opal while everyone else dances. And I—”

A lump begins to form in his stomach. The words come out reluctantly, interrupting her, “I see, so it’s a pity dance.” He wanted to let go, to save her the time, but.

“No!” The protest comes out as an outburst. He blinks watching the dark pink creep across her own cheeks. The hand in his tightens its grip, almost as if she feared he’d let go. She looks away.“That’s not what I meant. I’ve wanted to dance with you for a while, I just couldn’t seem to ask you, and you’ve never asked me or anyone and what if you didn’t dance anyways.” Gloria’s words come out in a rush, strung together in a flustered line. 

He pauses their dance and she stumbles, caught quickly in Bede’s arms. And she still won’t look at him. “Slow down already, you’re not making any sense, Idiot.” The remark comes out harsher than he’d like, and he winces. “I mean, what makes _this_ year any different from any other?” 

Bede’s heartbeat drums against his chest, erratic chaos in a ribcage. And he’s sure he’s about to die. The wait for a response seems to last a lifetime.

“Hop. He said—”

“Hop? What does that imbecile have to do with anything?” He bristles a bit at the idea that the imbecile could have anything to do with this, with Gloria, with them, in this moment.”

“No, I mean—”

“What is it you mean?” He demands.

“Why do you keep interrupting me!” She snaps.

Bede quiets, hesitant. He reacted wrong.

Quietly she murmurs something he almost doesn’t catch, “Why is this so hard…” Shaking her head, a brown curl falls loose, falling on her cheek.

She looks at him. Finally. And there’s fire in her eyes, like when they battle and she’s about to land the finishing blow.

Bede forgets to breathe.

“I like you… Idiot.” 

Somewhere in the background, he hears a crowd countdown in growing excitement. Instead, Gloria’s words echo over and over in his ears.

 _I like you._ The world seemed to open up.

“Five!”

 _I like you._ He could hear music, the voice of angels.

“Four!”

 _I like you._ Every restless piece of his life coming into place, together with, her, with Gloria. 

“Three!”

“Say something?” The fire in her eyes calmed and she looks into his magenta ones anxiously.

“Two!”

“I—” _I like you too._

“One!”

And because words could not nearly be enough, he pulls her in for a kiss, for the kiss. First met with rigid shock, Bede feels her relax, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Fireworks pierce the sky behind them. 

All around them guests cheered in the new year, howling and laughing, pulling in their partners in dramatic kisses of their own.

When they come up for air, the space between them is minuscule, their foreheads still touching. Neither can stop smiling.

When the words finally come to him, the initial moment is already passed. But he says it anyway because, for the first time in a long time, he means it, “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Bede.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm rusty, but thank you for taking the time to read this anyways. I just thought Bederia deserved a cute awkward New Year's kiss.  
> And Hop was honestly just tired of them avoiding this thing, so a proper nudge in the right direction was needed.  
> Anyways, you can also find me here at mochirimi.tumblr.com (so come by and say hello if you're bored).  
> Here's to 2020! Ok, bye!


End file.
